Kurapika
by liberatedsociety
Summary: Kurapika, an orphan boy sets foot in St. Petersburg for the sole purpose of finding the person who possibly gave him the necklace, the only clue to his identity. Along the way, he met three persons who will helped him achieve his goal and restore his right as the person he once was before he lost everything.
1. Chapter 1 - Memories that linger

**May: I would like to dedicate this story for my bestfriend who is celebrating her birthday today. I would also like to point out a few details pertaining to this story: First, this is a parody of the movie "Anastasia" and isn't made to dissuade the readers about the information nor the real facts of the movie concerning the Romanov royal family. Secondly, I do not own the anime HunterxHunter and all characters associated with it. I only own the filler chapters and the OCs in the coming chapters.**

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Chapter 1 - Memories that linger

 _"Papa!" a young blond haired boy cried happily, his emerald eyes twinkling as he was raised and swung in the air by strong powerful arms dressed in the garbs attributed to the nobility._

 _He was then put down on the floor and ran towards an elder woman who was seated on an elegant chair, dressed in long red robes lined with gold and made from the finest silk._

 _As he looked up to see her face, all he could see was a mist covering the face. A face that he felt that he must know so well if the gestures of the lady would mean anything to him._

 _He reached out a hand, trying to make sense of it when-_

The boy jolted awake as if he felt an invisible forced rammed into him, returning him to the vestiges of the reality that he was in right now and not the blissful happiness that was widely showed in his dream.

Heaving out a sigh, he sat up in his bed on the floor and ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the dream that he had awhile ago before he was rudely pulled into the world.

So far it was the most vivid dream he had that possibly showed the life he might have come from-a life that he never remembered. And a life so unreachable in his current state.

He was an orphan. For how long, he couldn't remember. All he could remember was vaguely loitering around, calling out for someone who isn't there anymore. Someone who should have been there to protect and care for him.

As he was about to go venture again into his thoughts, a loud knocked on the door broke him from his musings and was opened up by a short stout older woman with gray hair sticking all over the place, dressed in worn out rags and shoes.

"So, you're up." the woman drawled as she looked down at him with a look on her face. "What were you waiting for? Get up!"

"Fine." he mumbled as he stretched his hands over his head. Then stood up and began tidying up his sleeping area as the woman left him to his own devices. He couldn't help but be sometimes annoyed that the woman treat him like he did something that was unfavorable in her eyes.

But he was thankful at least that this is the las time that he would ever have the need to stay in a place like this. A place where orphans like him arrive and never leave to even find if they have a family they could return to.

A family that would be their source of comfort and safety.

And he was painfully reminded of his as he looked down at the small gold pendant hanging around his neck, attached to a thin gold chain. It was the only clue that he had about his real family.

"I wonder where you are now." he whispered as he looked at the pendant in his palm, with longing. "And if you were all still alive."

Heaving out a sigh, he tucked the necklace under his big grey long shirt and don on a forest green coat that was way too big for him and tied an indigo scarf around his neck tightly as he could feel that the cold outside was unbearable even fot someone like him who have experienced it for years.

If anyone would be willing to be an ice popsicle, then be his guest.

He would rather die from heat rather than die frozen in an untameable area in the country.

"I would miss you all." he whispered as he looked at the boys and girls sleeping in the small cramped room. "Till we meet again." he added as he ducked his head and went out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him, leaving his past behind for good.

"Are you ready?" a voice spoke and he looked up to see the old woman again looking at him with a soft expression on her face.

He silently nodded and followed the older out of the building and donned on the cap he was hastily given awhile ago. He couldn't help but be saddened at the thought of leaving the children behind. Children that had grown to look up at him as big brother.

As he walked down the hallway, he let his eyes gazed over at the sleeping forms of the children in the hallway, some cuddled together against the cold, while some were huddled under a huge blanket which was no doubt was a tablecloth when the orphanage had seen better days.

 _'This is it...'_ he thought as he neared the double doors leading to his future and away from the scrutinying eyes of the woman and to his disappointment and grief, the eyes of the children he had grown to be part of. _'Good bye.'_

"You're leaving?" a small voice spoke and he slowly turned his head to look at a small child with black hair and brown eyes looking up at him tearfully. "You're leaving us, Kura?"

He smiled as he fully turned to face the child and got down on his knee. "I won't be leaving entirely. I will come back someday to visit you all."

"Promise?" the child asked as he held out a hand, his pinky pointed towards him.

Kura raised his and intertwined it with the child's. "Promise."

As soon as he said those words, children began rising from their sleep and was waving him off with smiles on their faces. "Bye, Kura! See you soon!"

"Good bye!" he greeted in return as he waved his hand, not noticing the glare the orphanage head was giving him while muttering some things underneath her breath about his arrival in the orpahange 8 years ago.

"I've found you a job at a fish factory," she drawled on despite listening to him wave to the children inside the orpahanage. "You go to the left, and see the fork-" she glared at him. "Are you listening?" she demanded as she placed her hands on his hips.

"I am listening, Mrs. Phlegminkoff." he answered as he dropped down his hand and gave the older his full attention.

"Never mind." Ms. Phlegminkoff scoffed as she lead the way. "I asked myself why I ever took you in...you came in like some aristocrat you are...and all you ever said was..." she pulled him by the scarf around his neck and read the writings on the pendant. "Together in Paris..." she mocked as she let go.

"It would be easy if I know who I was-" he started to protest.

"But you didn't!" she reminded him with a scoff as she pushed him out of the gates and shut it. "Together in Paris!" she cried as she turned on her heel and started walking back to the orphanage, a hand on her back while letting out a few coughs here and there. "Together in Paris...what a joke."

He looked at the orphanage for awhile, as it was the only home he could ever remember and with a dejected sigh he fixed his scarf around his neck then started to walk. All the while thinking to what would happen to him.

And if he would ever feel the love that only a family could bring.

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 **May: This was the new story I was planning for months now! There would be revisions later on about this particular chapter but anyways...please do comment and read.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Decisions

**May: Sorry for the long wait! I've been depressed the last month and the past few days so bear with me if my writing skill is not what it usually is right now. And I'm already in second year college and that the start of school is nearing. This might be my last update for this story.**

 **Anyways, I dedicate this to my bestfriend, infamoustwinkie and to all readers who are anticipating an update for this story.**

 **Disclaimer: As always, I do not own HunterXHunter and all characters and affiliations cited herein that are related to the anime, is again owned by the rightful owners. I also do not own the movie from which this story was made as a parody from. And again, this is not meant to change the outcome or any information about the Romanov Royal Family.**

 **I also forgot to point out that this is set in the 20th century Russia more like 1928's(same as the one in the movie).**

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Chapter 2 - Decisions

Kura scoffed to himself as he continued walking, digging his hands deeper into the pockets of his worn out coat. He wouldn't admit it to himself that he was cold-it was far better to admit that he was alone than focused on the needs of the body when he could have focused more on his emotional needs.

How can he when he have grown up for 10 whole years experiencing lack of everything that the world considers a luxury? For as far as he can recall, the only time they managed to eat in the orphanage for 3 times a day was when it was visited by countless families and politicians-the former looking for a child to adopt and the latter boosting their morale or their influence over the destitute.

He wouldn't be surprised if he someday heard that one politician had used the visit to the orphanage as a means to get more supporters to rally on his side.

Tufts of his blond hair stuck out from under his bonnet as he shivered in the cold, despite the many clothings he have covered himself just before he left the orphanage.

Well, it didn't serve it's purpose.

 _'You will go down until you reach the fork in the road...'_ his orphanage head-or should he say former orphanage head told him awhile ago.

He then heaved out a sigh and momentatily watched his breath appeared for a time before disappearing into thin air.

He then continued walking, resisting the urge to look back at where he had come from. It was no used now. He's already an adult in the eyes of the orphanage and the country that he should already take responsibility of his own life.

But to work forever in a fish factory?

He couldn't have that.

Slipping a hand under his scarf, he took out the necklace and look at it, the small gold pendant resting on the palm of his hand.

"Someone must have loved me so much..." he murmured as he looked at the necklace with longing. "If only I remember where I came from..." he drifted off.

And an image appeared in his vision.

 _An image of a young boy with a huge smile on his face as he was held up in the air._

 _His small but yet, cheerful voice cry gleefully at the person who held him._

 _"Papa!" he cried happily._

And that was it. One of the only memories he have that could be a clue to his past.

A past that he have no idea of what he or who he was before he landed in the orphanage.

He then stopped as his eyes landed on the fork on the road that the orphanage head had told him which seemed like ages ago.

And raised a foot forward hesitantly then took a step back, a mischievous smile appearing on his face.

"And if I go right..." he said as he willed his body to move to said direction, ignoring the insistent nagging in his head about his supposed job.

If only his mind wasn't that retentive. He could've sworn he could imagine the orphanage head yelling at him at the foolish decision he was making like she was just standing right beside him.

But her insistent nagging was override by the feeling that had crept upon him again.

Longing. To be where he was supposed to be. To be who he was supposed to be...probably with his family.

Or only living family.

His eyes landed on the pendant resting on his chest. "If only I knew who gave me this necklace..." he murmured. "Then I wouldn't have to be so alone...and lost."

His decision made up, he walked past the fork in the road and towards where the path would lead him to. For better or for worse, he will find his only living family and be reunited with them again.

Then looked up at the sky, giving it a glare as his blue eyes watched the snowflakes descend towards the ground in a slow rhythmic dance. Beckong him to join in its number.

But he had far more things in his mind that are more important than playing in the snow, throwing away all the dignity he have as a means to forget the world and bask in the never ending joy that only an imagination could bring.

As he walked, he looked up at the sky. "Give me a sign!" he demanded. "A hint!" he asked. "Anything!" he shouted in exasperation as he stopped walking and sat down tiredly on a trunk of a tree.

Gathering his breath. After a few minutes, he stood up and was about to walk away when he was held back and he turned his head to look who was behind the tug on his scarf.

And saw no one. Shrugging his shoulders, he began walking again. And was again held back.

Heaving out a sigh, he looked down to see a hand gripping the edge of his scarf. He gasped in horror as he realized that the hand holding his scarf was wrapped in black cloth.

As he let his eyes travel down, he could sense that it was not a mere hand, but someone buried under the mound of snow.

Shaking his head free from the horrid thoughts, he knelt beside the hand on the ground, and began digging his way through. Hopinb against hope that the person is still alive. He couldn't have been under the snow for so long, has he?

As soon as he saw a tuft of black hair stick out, he then grabbed the man's arm and pulled with all his might. The snow fell around the risen man as he slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at him.

And his lips moved into a small smile-as it was it appeared to him.

He heaved out a relieved sigh. Thank goodness. The man is alive but it still doesn't escape the thought of how he ended up there. There weren't any signs of abuse on him, as far as he can tell with his black clothing covering his body.

With fur lining both his neck and his sleeves.

He was different with his slick black hair, rounded black eyes accentuated with fine eyebrows, straight nose and thin lips. There was some sort of cross on his forehead, a symbol of his religion or affiliation maybe.

"...Are you alright, good sir?" he inquired as he knelt beside the stranger.

The man stood still for a moment then slowly turned his head to look at him. "I'm forever in your debt, young prince."

Prince? He blinked. Never once in his life have he ever been said to be a prince, all he could remember was the orphanage head telling him that he came in like an aristocrat, a world long gone since the revolution.

They might be far from the centre of civilization, but they could still hear snippets of what was happening in the country.

Shaking his head ruefully, he stood up.

"Come on, let's go."

Without waiting for him, he walked ahead and stopped to turned his head to look at the man who had now stood at his original height, standing around 6 ft tall.

And he could sense that despite his feeling against the man, half of him was thrilled to have someone around to talk with when the journey gets dreary or even dull.

The decisions he made up until now are according to him are the best ones he haven't regretted yet. And this might be the best one yet.

Perhaps saving him was his sign all along.

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 **reincarnatedpharaoh: 😮. Oopps...this looks like a Kuroro and Kurapika pairing...oh, well, good thing I updated. Far better than nothing at all.**

 **Please comment and review what you think about this chapter! Also visit the poll on my profile concerning the next chapters of this story. Next update would be probably Prince Charming Academy.**


	3. Chapter 3 - A Plan

**May: I'm not yet dead! Soory for the HIATUS! It was due to college requirements which piled up as the days go by...and now it is the year 2017! Woohoo! Happy New Year! Sorry for the EXTREMELY late greeting.**

 **Anyway, I do not in any means or form own the characters and their respective names from the anime HunterXHunter. And of course, I also do not dissuade in any form the information pertaining to the movie, Anastasia and of course, the Romanov Royal Family.**

 **To my bestfriend, infamoustwinkie, this chapter is dedicated to you. (You will understand why) :)**

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Chapter 3 - A Plan

1928, St. Petersburg, Russia...

"Why are we here again?" a five foot girl with medium length brown hair and brown eyes asked as she shivered under the thick coat she was wearing as she looked up at her companion beside her who was looking at the people in the bazaar with an impassive look.

Eyes narrowed like the other was intending to read the secrets buried deep inside the peoples' souls.

"Hey, Hailey." the short girl called again as she waved a hand in front of the other's face. "Why-"

Hailey raised a hand to halt her friend's speech and pointed at the man selling what look like old portraits, and clothes. The man's smile was wide as he lightly shoved the fur cloak he was holding at a passing woman who barely gave him a look.

"This is a valuable piece!" the man cried out after the woman who shrugged off his attempts in negotiating. "This is said to be worn by the Czar himself."

He then grumbled momentarily to himself before returning the smile to his face as he turned to regale the other potential customers with his tales of the past before the revolution that happened over a decade ago.

"Everyone can see that the revolution only caused the country to delve further into depression," Hailey told her companion who nodded in agreement at the statement, her eyes roaming over at the various stands of the locality selling clothes, paintings, jewelry, and even furniture.

"But then..." the shorter girl frowned. "...are you still sure about it?"

Hailey turned to her companion. "About what?"

"Finding the missing Romanov heir?"

It was a long while before the taller girl answered as she began to walk, a hand in the pocket of her coat. "I don't know, Aaliyah."

"But that is why we are here, aren't we?" Aaliyah insisted as they passed by a slightly tall man, wearing a crisp business suit and tea glasses up his nose. "To find the Tsarevitch Kurapika."

"If he is really alive that is," one of the vendors spoke, her various jewels hanging from her wrists. "If it is true, imagine how much his dear grandmama will pay for his safe return."

"How much?" Aaliyah asked as she turned to the older woman, curious.

The older grinned as she leaned in close and was about to whisper the amount when Aaliyah was dragged away by her friend and towards the abandoned palace grounds.

"I was-"

"10 million ruples." the other replied as she let go of her arm and turned to face her. "We are not supposed to be lingering that much...the government have expressedly forbidden any information about the royal family to be spread about."

"How did you-?

Hailey shrugged, nonchalant as if she knew it already. "I could guess it that much. He is the only heir left to the Russian throne." she whispered the last part. "And the only grandson of the Dowager Empress."

They continued weaving through the crowd, and out into the cobblestone streets of St. Petersburg, their hands buried deep into their pockets to ward off the cold that weighs heavily in the air.

Away from the revelry of the marketplace that had formed in the palace courtyard, its occupants aware of the revolution and the end of the royal family, but oblivious to how their demise have been delivered unto them.

Only reveling in the glory of finding the last remaining Romanov, and the fortune that it could bring to alleviate one's family from its step into starvation and death.

"But still..." Aaliyah sighed as she looked them, at the man cleaning the windows on the highest building supported by just a scaffold, a man begging for alms near the train station and of the various citizens-some with the capacity to flaunt their family fortune as they enjoy their leisures under such a regime.

Most of the noble families have fallen under the might of the revolution and have ceased to exist, their lands, titles, and wealth ceded to the government. Some have fled the country before the dawn of the revolution have fallen while some have been gunned down in their defiance against the new regime.

All for the sake of establishing the might of the people in oppose to the established government.

For the price of their shackled freedom, all vestiges of the royal family have been expressedly forbidden to be uttered in public, or even be used as names for children in the national registry.

Fearing for the rise of the royalists and placing a claimant on the throne, signifying the return of the age where there were few people who have lives bathe in absolute luxury.

"How would you think it would feel like?" Aaliyah asked, her voice barely heard above the noise of the crowd, her eyes carefully watching the sentries standing guard, atop their horses, their guns and batons sheathed around their waists.

"Feel like what?" Hailey absentmindedly asked as she stopped in front of a stall selling jewelry and raised up a small round gold and sapphire wrought music box to inspect it.

And was examining the small lock at the side with a critical eye.

"If...the tsarevitch is alive?"

"I wouldn't know," the latter replied with an uniterested shrug as she held out the money to the vendor and placed the item in one of her deep pockets and resumed walking. "I didn't even grew up to feel loved."

"Not unlike other people." she added with a scoff. "I..." she shook her head and brushed off the thought. "His grandmama would be beyond exalted to see him alive moreso returned to her after a decade."

"That would no doubt shake the foundation of this country," Aaliyah commented with a frown.

Hailey just nodded her head and slowly took out the item she have purchased earlier. Her eyes trying to read the faded writings on the sides to no avail.

 _'Whoever he is,'_ she thought. _'must have been dreaming of this chance.'_

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 **May: This was actually my second story that is updated in months. Anyway, forgive this chapter for it seemed like it was made in a rush to satisfy the cravings for those who wished to see the development of this story.**

 **I would like to point out that some would come based on the movie, some would be from historical sources(like the life in 20th century Russia, and the weather and of course, the rule of royalty.)**

 **As a forewarning, the future chapters would deter from the happenings in the movie itself and would be written as accurate as possible.**

 **And I would like to hear from all of you again. Please do leave a review for me to know what you think.**

 **Good night, y'all!**


	4. Chapter 4 - Reminisce

**First of all, I would like to tell you all that this chapter was my first after the months I've held myself back to write because of the uncertainties in my life that made me question my talent as a writer.**

 **Second, this chapter is dedicated to all the followers/readers of this story.**

 **Lastly, I do not own HunterXHunter, the movie Anastasia and in no way dissuade the information about the Romanov royal family.**

 **Last but not the least, the names of historical figures is changed into another name...please understand and as stated above, this is no way to change the identities of the royal family. Any events spiraling after this would be near historical as could be allowed.**

 **This was way...very late gift for my friend. Lame, I know.**

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Chapter 4 - Reminisce

1928, Paris France...early morning

She still remembered the glistening jewels, the shine of their reflections dancing across the room, their hands-small and soft-yet firm, untouched by the vestiges of hard life and war, their childish laughter ringing throughout-distinct yet drowned by the revelry around them, basking in the small joy they have wallowed themselves in around the adults-around the life they have yet to live-to be puppets dressed in finery, bedecked in glistening crowns and jewels, their whole lives dictated by lessons and etiquette.

Her eyes watched them with pride and happiness blossoming in her heart-as they, have truly started to grow into the roles they soon would have to play-her gaze lingering on the youngest-a blond haired boy, green eyes glimmering with happiness and mischief as he let himself led away by his older siblings. Dancing through the bodies-careful not to bump or even cause while creating and immersing in their own fantasy.

A soft, yet despondent sigh escaped her lips as she shook her head free of the memories of long ago. No use to letting herself drown in a moment where everything turned into nothing-leaving her with only the dignity and the hope that someday-if not all-would be as what she remembered.

"You're still at it then?" a voice spoke, strained yet with a slight hint of a tease.

Lifting her head, she looked up to see an older woman, her hair in a bun, blue eyes searching through her, as if reading the secrets she buried deep in her heart.

Letting a strained chuckle, she put down the small, oval photo back onto the table beside her. "It's hard not to be when it has been a decade since..." her throat choked at the thought. Her home, her family...all gone in an instant.

The other woman heaved out a sigh as she slowly walked towards the one seated by the window, pale sunlight streaking through the windows, basking the other's face in a soft glow that eerily reminded her of long ago, back when she would find the other outside in the gardens, surrounded by children all looking up at her adoringly as she regaled them with series of wars and victories long past, their legends weaving through like spells cast to catch the attention of eager ears-like a starved man to a food.

"I know..." she whispered as she softly placed a hand on the other's wrinkled form. "But..you don't have to let yourself live in the past, Viktoria. Even so long, you start to hope that it is not what you think it is."

"I know what I believed in, Dorothea," Viktoria bit back-almost a snarl-but a weak one. She then sagged back into the soft comforts of the chair she sat behind. A hand on her forehead. Her own blue eyes turning cloudy as a surge of memories played in her mind, toying with the endless possibilities she refused to even acknowledge. "But it is what has given me hope for years..." she almost half whispered as she slowly lifted her head to look up at the other.

Her own eyes pleading for the older to let her this-just this once-her own personal fantasy, one that they have not a chance to have after they have grown and left behind the frivolities that their childhood have gifted them, saddling them instead with the responsibility that they have been tutored.

"To endure the years in which I have been reduced to nothing but a has been."

Dorothea looked at her younger sister for a long while before heaving out a sigh of her own, settling onto the armchair beside the other. A small, thin smile stretching from her lips. She knew what the other had gone through, she have offered her home, as a sanctuary, as a way to reprieve the others of the horrors that had started to befall them.

"You have never been reduced to nothing, Viktoria," she murmured as gently clasped the other's hand. A sincere smile on her face as she looked at the other in the eyes. "You always have everything...even if it's nothing."

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St. Petersburg, Russia...early morning

"10 millions ruples...?" the man repeated to himself as he extracted himself from the wall of the shop he was leaning against, a small smile playing in his lips as he pushed his glasses up to his nose. Eyes following the two females-foreigners he could tell from their accents and of a higher standing than himself if he have deduced it correctly, which he was never wrong as he was known to have a critical eye for detail.

That amount could help tons of people-even if not the whole country. Whoever offered that much greatly valued to have something or rather _someone_ returned to them.

"You got it right," a voice spoke, and he turned his head to look beside him to see someone lowered the newspaper down, revealing a pudgy man with slick graying hair, glasses perched on his nose, wearing the gaudiest outfit he have ever seen his life-reminiscent of the past. "10 million ruples for the return of the Tsarevitch."

He frowned, knowing full well what had happened to the royal family. "How come? He had perished along with his family."

The man chuckled as he wagged a finger in front of him, a smile on his lips. "Rumors have circulated that he is alive." he then shrugged. "Whether it is true or not, hell the money is worth it. Tons of people have already made claims that they're the Tsarevitch..." he then waved him forward and whispered something in his ear.

He let out a gasp, eyes wide behind his glasses, his jaw slacked. The very thought...no, he could- _wouldn't_ risk it. Sure he had shady dealings in the past to be able to present himself now, but still, he had promised himself that he would never stoop so low ever again. The very thought...!

The man chuckled, noticing the turmoil plaguing the mind of the man beside him. "I would not have presented to you the thought...but..." his gaze landed on the cobblestone street in front of them, with few people still walking towards their destination, perhaps to a warm home or out of the country. Remembering the old days...

Of glistening horse carriages, women bedecked in the finest jewelry and frocks the wealthiest could afford, the men dressed in their finest, their shoes almost rivaling the shiniest jewel to be found by man with the way the reflection appeared on them like a second mirror. With the minority enjoying the fruits of being born in such standing, while them-the _peasants-_ he growled at the word, slaved away and used whatever means necessary to survive the bitter cold nipping at their heels each night.

And now, what the government have given them not more than 14 years after the revolution, they also had taken away, animals slaughtered. How better are they-the common people-than the animals they slaughtered? To have their own dignity and rights taken from them before they were killed? Now, all those who were in working age are waiting whether they were dragged into labour camps or forced into the slavery-not much different from before.

But then, the hope, that the very thought of the prince being alive-dare he admit it-brings light into their hearts, into their beings, proving that despite the darkness that they found themselves in-as it was also the light that they have sparked to end the reign of such an unfair government-that there is still hope underneath it all, that the light would lead them to the path that they all wanted.

A life where everyone live in content.

He turned to look at his companion, only to his shock to find the other already walking away, whistling a familiar yet unfamiliar tune under his breath, hands hidden in the pockets of his pants, his mind no doubt on the next step he would do.

Turning back to his newspaper, he chuckled again-this time in humorless mirth before settling himself where he had sat before he was woken from his musings.

* * *

The man walked, hands deep inside the pockets of his pants, whistling a tune under his breath as he walked past several shops and alleys before sneaking into an alley and walked out to the other side-this time in another area packed with people, his mind now in track as to what he should do with what he had received.

Shrugging, he ignored the cries of the vendors around him and snuck inside the gates of the former royal palace, it's not like anyone would call out to him anyway-the place have been abandoned and left to rot-as evidence of the dislike the people have over the former regime.

 _'Well, it's not like they asked to be born into it,'_ he thought in his head as he slipped through the wooden boards nailed on the side entrance he frequently uses- effortlessly, then checked if any wrinkles have appeared on his suit-it was as expensive as he could get nowadays. Not while the government dried the people up.

He looked around him, his eyes gazing over at the hundred years old paintings covered with cobwebs and blanketed with dust and grime, then at the pieces of items scattered throughout the room-just like how it was left behind years ago. His eyes replaying every single memory of when things were all just about parties and flaunting the life.

Passing through the opened doors at the other end of the room, he came out in the ballroom-then as if he was hypnotized-walked straight towards the huge painting in the middle of two staircases, behind the dais where thrones would usually be placed. And stared-no-gazed at the image of a blond haired boy with teal-green eyes, holding onto his mother's right hand.

Just by looking at it, he could tell that the boy was much loved-until now to even be considered a tale-a legend that he had survived.

But this is reality-this is the harsh truth that they have been dealt with. They have no used, no right to indulge themselves in some twisted fantasy.

Lifting a hand, he softly placed it on the chest of the boy, his eyes staring deeply into the others-as if he was looking at another person rather than a painting.

 _'How much of a difference would it make if you're really alive?'_ he thought, his hand slowly and gently stroking the painting before dropping limply at his side, his eyes never leaving the boy.

 _...the glittering light in the darkness..._

 _...a twisted fantasy reinforced with hope..._

* * *

 **Okay, it is a wrap. I did not start nor end this chapter the way I imagined it to be. And I apologized if the character I inserted here is OO** **C. It was my first time to actually write him and portray him...so please forgive me if I did him wrong.**

 **Forgive my work...as this was my first after being scrutinized about my writing skills...and even got someone in trouble for it. Though honestly, I did it all my own from my own reserves...and thus something unexpected happened...and someone paid the price, while even my own family seemed to believe that I did such an atrocious act.**

 **I'm a writer, I value other people's work whether they are reports or stories, poems and such, and I would not stoop so low as to copy theirs and make it my own, I know the pressure and the effort, time put into making a story-hell even thinking one! and polishing each chapter until it's perfect until it is deemed worthy enough.**

 **So, yeah, it irked me to think that they would think of me so much like that...anyway, if I do somehow whether intentionally or not, have copied one of your ideas or stories or plots(God forbid I already have enough of people accusing me of that when I have painstakingly slaved over my own stories by my own), then please tell me, PM me and I would remove it or even take the story down regardless of how well it's liked.**

 **Please, leave a review as to what you think.**


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